Repercussions
by scarletarchangel15
Summary: The aftermath of Mike Franks' death hits Tim hard, leaving him feeling sad and melancholy. When the team tries to help him feel better, he realizes much about them in the process. Tim-centric. Rated K , may change later on.


**Author's Note: So, it's been a while. But I finally posted something! Yay1 WIP. Obviously. **

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is well, the NCIS board game and the Wii game. :) But I don't own NCIS or any other thing that would make this story illegal. Because we wouldn't want that! On to the show!**

McGee hit the keyboard, typing and putting up the info for Jonas Cobb. His hands tripped over the keys and forced him to backspace multiple times. He slammed his hand down, letting out a swear word under his breath.

"Er, sorry boss. Uh, Cobb has..." McGee hit his keyboard again, earning him the looks of his partners. Ziva glanced at Tony and spoke with him using her eyes, gesturing in McGee's direction. They got up and walked over to McGee. Ziva went behind him and held him.

She pulled back, "McGee, you're shaking." This made Gibbs and Tony look at Tim with worried looks, even more than they had.

"Hey, what's wrong, Tim?" Tony asked him.

He looked up, "It's... The only grandfather I ever knew was Mike," he couldn't believe he was pouring his heart out right in the middle of the bullpen. "I know he's not... Well, he was part of our family..." His voice started breaking, "Like you guys, and- I have to go." He stood abruptly, shaking off Ziva and retreated to the elevator. The remaining team members looked at each other, stunned.

"Ziver, go."Gibbs nodded to the elevator. She rushed after Tim and tried to stop the doors from closing. But she was too late, the doors were closed and would stay that way, with Tim enclosed inside, for he had pushed the emergency stop and Ziva couldn't get the doors open. She walked back sadly to the two in the bullpen.

"He's gone. The elevator. He shut it down."

Gibbs nodded, "He just needs time."

He paced in the metal box. He couldn't cry in front of the team, wouldn't allow himself to. All this time he had worked to build a reputation better than the strong-minded, weak-muscled probie. And that couldn't be shattered in one moment. He needed so much to cry though. However much he may deny it and how he had to be strong around Abby. He sat against the wall and buried his head in his hands.

It was true, what he said. Both of the grandfathers Tim had, had died before he was born. Mike was the only one he considered a grandfather, not even Ducky was a grandfather to him. Ducky was more of a mentor, fatherly but older and he saw him more often than a grandfather. But Mike isn't here. Not anymore. Tears began to fall from Tim's green eyes. Until a ringing broke him from his thoughts. Why did he have to bring his phone with him? He looked at the screen. Tony. He ignored it and tossed his phone off to the side.

Up in the squadroom, they were beginning to get worried. Tim hadn't come back and they all wanted so bad to comfort the young agent. They sat around at their desks, not doing anything, just waiting for Tim. They hear the elevator ding and all looked up. But it was the other elevator, Dolores walked out. They resumed their task of waiting.

Tim sat for a few minutes, drying his wet eyes. His phone rang again, Ziva. He didn't pick up. He didn't really want to be bothered. Or talked to. Tim stayed there, staring blankly at the doors of the elevator, wishing he could stay in there forever. With no one to pester him. Tim didn't know he would take Mike Franks' death so hard. It was probably because he felt guilty because the team hadn't worked hard enough to stop Cobb. And Franks had died because of it. He imagined Franks' going as peaceful, in his place in Mexico, or like a mute swan, knowing when his time was up and set out on the ocean, dying out at sea. Mike probably knew his time was almost up, though.

Tim made a silent promise to himself. From now on, he would work as hard as he could, continuously improving his skills, so this wouldn't happen again. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he lost Gibbs. Or Ducky, or Tony, Ziva, Abby, even Palmer. He stood shakily, wiping his palm across his eyes, wiping off the remaining tears, shrugged on his jacket he had taken off and grabbed his phone.

He stood a few more minutes before flicking the power back on. The elevator shocked back to life. When it dinged and the doors slid open, the team ignored it, believing it was the other elevator that Tim wasn't in. He walked around to the bullpen and stopped short. Tony wouldn't look at anyone. Ziva stared at McGee's desk. Gibbs. Gibbs stared blankly in his desk drawer. Tim could only wonder what he was looking at. But the scene before him made him even more sad. He walked slowly forward. Ziva noticed him first and looked up at him. Then Gibbs noticed him standing there. Tim's eyes were slightly red, but mostly melancholy. Tim sat at his desk. Tony hadn't even made eye contact.

Gibbs was the first to speak, "It's late. Ziver, Tony, Tim. Go home." he sounded mournful as well. Ziva looked at Gibbs, then at Tim and began to slowly pack up for the night. Tony did as well, Tim followed suit. Tony was the first to leave and he did so without a word to his team. Then McGee left with Ziva trailing behind, studying him.


End file.
